


A Diamond in the Rough

by mythras_fire



Category: Alexander (2004), Alexander Trilogy - Mary Renault
Genre: Bittersweet, Fire From Heaven, Flashbacks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-03
Updated: 2006-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-08 09:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythras_fire/pseuds/mythras_fire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote my own imagining of what Hephaestion's last moments with Alexander could have been like, with a flashback on happy times when they were younger. This scene is taken from Oliver Stone's movie "Alexander" and then tweaked to my own ends with other influences from Mary Renault's novel <span class="u">Fire from Heaven</span>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Diamond in the Rough

“I remember when you used to dress me up like a Sheik.”

“You were the only one who would never let me win.”

“…Well someone had to keep your head out of the clouds, for a few minutes a day anyway.” He smiled warmly at Alexander, squeezing the hands encasing his with the little bit of strength remaining in his body.

Tears slid freely down Alexander’s face as he smiled at the memory.

“My head was always drawn to the clouds, trying to reach farther than my father ever dreamed, trying to outrun my mother.” His eyes closed as he paused to swallow past the lump taking up residence in his throat. He looked up again to see his beloved Hephaestion had closed his red-rimmed eyes as well, his beautiful face contorted in pain as another spasm shook him.

Alexander sobbed harder, cursing the gods for taking his love away from him. Cursing himself for failing to protect the one treasure in this world he had never had to seek out. The one treasure that had been at his side, a diamond in the rough, ever since they had been school boys in Mieza.

“I know, my Alexander. That is why I was there to pull you down to earth. Mere mortals cannot soar with the eagles, so they must wait for the eagles to rest when they come down out of the sky,” Hephaestion said sweetly after opening his eyes again.

Alexander marveled at the two brilliantly blue stars regarding him, set amidst a beautiful face unmarred by the ravages of war; not even his battle scars could mask his ethereal glow.

Alexander wished he could stare into those eyes for all eternity. In the afterworld he would. He would find a way.

“We will walk together in the Elysian Fields, my sweet Hephaestion, I promise you this.”

Hephaestion smiled and replied, “I know we will, my Alexander.”

Another round of body-racking spasms shook him then and he closed his eyes once more, trying to block out the pain.

Alexander couldn’t bear to see his soulmate suffering like this. He rose from the spot where he currently kneeled on the floor at the head of Hephaestion’s bed, releasing his grip on their entwined hands. Hephaestion whimpered at the loss of contact with the one thing keeping him grounded on this plane. He opened his eyes in askance but was pleasantly relieved when he felt the pelts shift under another’s weight and warm, strong arms appeared to envelop his still-shaking body.

Alexander scooted down under the covers and tucked them around their two bodies, making a warm cocoon out of their bed. After a few minutes of just lying there in his lover’s arms, the shaking subsided and Hephaestion opened his eyes and turned his head to the right to stare into the amber orbs of his lover.

Alexander was so wracked with emotion at seeing his beloved relax even just the slightest bit that he shifted as close as he could and hugged Hephaestion for all he was worth, burying his face in those luxurious golden brown tresses.

“…Alexander…can’t breathe…” came a gasping plea a few moments later, followed by a light chuckle. Alexander immediately released his tight grip but by no other means did he move away. Then he started laughing, too, as they both recalled that time when they were young and in Pella, and it had been Hephaestion who had hugged the breath out of Alexander, the two of them perched up there among the gables above the prince’s rooms.

He repositioned his head under Hephaestion’s chin and laid his right arm across the other man’s chest. Hephaestion sighed, or at least he tried to, given that his breaths mostly came out shallow with a bit of a rasp. “Remind me of what we used to do when we played sheik during the stormy winters in Mieza.”

Alexander smiled into his lover’s neck even as tears continued to stream from his eyes, steady as a flowing river before it cascades over a waterfall. He cleared his throat and began to regale Hephaestion with tales from another life and another time when they had been each other’s sole focus; before Alexander’s demons had pushed him to try and outrun his problems, inevitably casting him out farther and farther from his treasure, even though it followed him everywhere, loyal to the last.

“You were always the sheik because by your reasoning I was the prince in this life so that meant the tables had to be turned in our make-believe world… and by the gods, you were so beautiful in those silk robes.”

He felt Hephaestion’s chest move up and down as he chuckled quietly at the memory of that long ago time and his rather adamant explanations to his reasoning; he even blushed a tiny bit as he always did at Alexander’s compliments.

Alexander closed his eyes to better remember this one particular time they had played sheik, locked away in their room one wintry night…

//Flashback//

“Which one do you want- oh wait, never mind, why do I even ask, of course you would want the finest one of the whole lot.”

“Why, how well you know me!”

“Indeed. Whatever pretty little Hephaestion wants Hephaestion gets. How hard is it to remember that?” Alexander teased.

“Jerk!” Hephaestion shoved Alexander around a bit. “I’m not the one who has five servants at my beck and call.”

“Hey I was born into this family, supposedly. I didn’t seek it out. But anyway, we’re not in that world right now, are we? No. We’re in the world where I get to wear this…thing,” he said with a touch of fake disdain, holding up a cotton tunic of blues and greens, “whilst you are to be robed in only the finest silks, oh Great Sheik,” he finished with a smirk and a little bow.

“Ah, what a fine subject! He finally remembers my exalted place. Would you care to put it on me? We sheiks are too high and mighty to trifle with dressing ourselves.” He gave Alexander a hungry, knowing look.

“Why, I would love nothing more, oh Great One,” Alexander said, returning the look.

Hephaestion loved it when they played Sheik. Ever since Alexander had discovered those old books chronicling the adventurous and nomadic tales of Xerxes, King of Persia, who battled with the Spartans over a hundred years before their time, the two schoolboys had been somewhat engrossed in acquainting themselves with different aspects of the Persian court, the most fun of course being had in playful recreations of the great King himself or other powerful sheiks. Alexander sometimes likened him to another of their idols, Herakles, whom he admired greatly as a half-man, half-god adventurer. And when he wasn’t modeling himself after a half-god he was reciting Homer and calling Hephaestion his Patroclus. Yes, indeed, Alexander had no problem whatsoever with setting for himself god-like expectations.  He would not be Alexander if he settled for anything less.

Hephaestion had to grin at the ridiculous get-up Alexander had just concocted as Hephaestion was pulled away from his thoughts. The chance to play Sheik usually arose when it rained for a few days and nights as a winter storm passed over their school in Mieza. Aristotle would leave them be, for a time, and so Alexander would literally lock them both into their room so they could just be together reading or talking or like today, playing.

Alexander had returned to the old wooden chest, sorting through all sorts of exotic fare, a determined look on his face like he was contemplating battle strategies. Hephaestion grinned at his enthusiasm as he turned back to look out the window down at the courtyard several stories below, watching the rain fall.

Alexander was searching for the perfect piece of silk in which to envelop his gorgeous friend. He had been thinking a lot about the topic on which Aristotle had been lecturing of late, the honorable state of the erastes and his eromenos in Greek society. Alexander had become immediately enthralled by the idea for it mirrored the relationship of the great Achilles and Patroclus. Alexander was determined to model his life after the Myrmidon to seek glory and adventure in the name of Macedonia, but only with his lover at his side. The peculiar thing though at least in everyone else’s eyes was that, if one had to label it, Hephaestion would be his erastes as he was a few months older. But that didn’t matter to them. He and Hephaestion had just gravitated towards each other after having met a few years before, social customs be damned. His parents tried to wean him off of Hephaestion and into the arms of a proper erastes but Alexander wasn’t falling for that trap. He had his Hephaestion. That was all he needed. Nor did he refer to Phai as such. He was simply ‘Philalexandros’, friend of Alexander.

“Here we are, finest sapphire in the land to go with those beautiful sea-blue eyes, oh Exalted One,” Alexander walked over to the window and held the silk up to Hephaestion’s eyes, shielding the rest of his face from view. The dark blue color of the cloth made his eyes stand out against his skin so much that they looked aglow. Alexander was mesmerized.

Hephaestion always squirmed under the other man’s intense gaze. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention. “What?” he finally said, blushing behind the silk.

Alexander was about to tell him how beautiful he was as he leaned into kiss him but was interrupted by a cacophony of noises and raucous shouts coming from the courtyard. The two looked out the window to where some of their companions had gathered around a fountain. Alexander spied Cassander and Philotas, definitely co-conspirators, making the most noise i.e. kissing sounds and other less savory noises and gestures. There were a few others following suit and Hephaestion noticed Ptolemy watching everything with a detached attitude, sitting off to the side under an awning.

Alexander grinned at Hephaestion, who wondered how he was going to react. Alexander was not known for having a gloriously predictable temper.

“You know they’re just jealous,” Alexander remarked to Hephaestion as he returned the rude gestures.  He seemed to be enjoying himself. Hephaestion didn’t share his good humor because the prince did not have to deal with their jeers and cold shoulders when not in public. He just wanted to be left alone, to be acknowledged as Alexander’s friend and confidant, and not what he knew everyone thought of him. But he said nothing. He could hold his own and Alexander was perfectly right, they were jealous, but, it seemed, for the wrong reasons.

“And look, they don’t even have enough sense to get in out of the rain. Well, ’cept for good ol’ Ptolemy, that is.” Alexander laughed. He looked over when Hephaestion didn’t join in laughing and saw only a bemused expression. He frowned at this. What was bothering his closest friend?

“Hephaestion?”

“Hmmm?” came the far-away reply, eyes staring out the window lazily, as if off in thought.

“Don’t pay them any heed.”

“Mmmhmmm.”

“They’re all just jealous because I get to taste the salt of your skin and touch the most intimate of places on your beautiful body and they do not.”

“I guess—wait, *what* did you just say?!” Hephaestion looked away from the window to turn his gaze sharply on Alexander, who was standing there with a big fat smirk on his regal face.

“Ahhhh, welcome back to Mieza, Phai! See any gods while your head was up on Mount Olympus?”

Hephaestion abruptly turned away from the window and walked across the room to stand near the fire keeping the room warm and dry against the dampness outside.

“I heard what you said,” he muttered, his back turned to Alexander.

“Did you, now? And what was that?” Alexander replied as he followed in the other man’s footsteps to stand right behind him by the fire, his arms encircling his lover’s waist, the piece of silk still dangling from one hand. He propped his chin on the brunette’s left shoulder, staring at the flames. He was determined to break his lover out of this dark mood that had suddenly come upon him.

Hephaestion of course turned bright red. He hated it when Alexander caught him off guard and it seemed to happen quite often because he always had a lot on his mind. The day had been going quite peacefully, heating up when they had begun “playing” sheik. Something suddenly occurred to Hephaestion. They were still technically in his world where he was the Great Sheik and Alexander the loyal subject. The *subservient* loyal subject. A gleam came into the Macedonian’s eyes and he forgot his bashfulness.

There was a change in Hephaestion’s composure quick as a lightning bolt. Alexander felt the man he already loved with body and soul stand to his full height. He felt a spark shoot through his own body at the authoritatively haughty look Hephaestion adopted as he turned in his embrace.

The older man met Alexander’s even stare. “Oh, something about you tasting the salt on my skin…” he drawled, dragging an index finger across Alexander’s open bottom lip as he slowly circled around his lover. He stopped for a moment behind Alexander’s back to slide a hand around his waist and down that taut stomach to his hip bone. He leaned closer and whispered in his ear, “and touching the most…intimate…of places on my beautiful body…” He felt the prince shiver with delight as his hand snuck its way under Alexander’s chiton.

Noticing that the prince was still holding the piece of sapphire-colored silk, Hephaestion slid his other hand down Alexander’s arm, ghosting his fingers just above the skin to elicit goose bumps and another shiver. He removed the silk from the still fingers and wrapped it around his own waist and up over his right shoulder like a toga.

Alexander was still facing the fire, dumbfounded, not even aware that Hephaestion had removed his hand from under Alexander’s chiton. All of a sudden a warm piece of cotton landed on his shoulder. He pulled it down to find that it was a chiton. A discarded chiton. He spun around and his mouth fell open. Hephaestion was standing there in nothing but silk, his beautiful brown locks falling over his shoulders, one hand on his tanned hip.

It was Hephaestion’s turn to smirk. “Oh well, I guess a Sheik has to do some things for himself after all.”

“Uh-huh,” was all Alexander could manage. He was still shocked by this take-charge side of Hephaestion. He had assumed the role of predator. Alexander had become the prey. Surprisingly, he found this to be rather thrilling. He had never relinquished this kind of control before. Only with Hephaestion. Only for Hephaestion.

Hephaestion took advantage of Alexander’s shock to walk over to the chest, bending over at the waist instead of squatting down like he normally would. He hadn’t grown up around women for nothing. Some of them knew exactly what they were doing. Hephaestion aimed to make sure that even on their death beds, hopefully far from now, they would remember this night. This would be the night they entwined their souls together into one brilliant star shining in the other’s eye. This was not the first time they had lain together, nor would it be the last. Far from it. But it would be special. Here and now. For it always made Alexander aware of his own mortality, oddly enough. Hephaestion was actually relieved that he could share these moments afterwards with Alexander because the General’s son certainly didn’t give his mortality a second thought the rest of the time, least of all when they were on the battlefield.

So, leaned over the chest of silks, furs, and cottons with the knowledge that his makeshift toga wasn’t *that* long, he rummaged around looking for something suitable in which to dress (and then undress) Alexander. While he was looking over one side of the chest he surreptitiously glanced under his arm at the beautiful man standing as still as a statue of Herakles. ‘Yes, this is going to be fun,’ Hephaestion smiled to himself. He spotted a nice fur over in the corner of the chest and pulled it out. It was a deep earthy brown that complemented Alexander’s golden brown eyes nicely. It was luxurious to the touch, similar, in fact, to the furs covering their bed to keep them warm at night.

Hephaestion stood up straight and shook out the fur a few times. That movement seemed to jar Alexander out of his stupor because he padded across the woolen rugs strewn about the wooden floor to pick up the other end of the fur, avoiding Hephaestion’s eyes mostly because his gaze couldn’t stray from the breathing silk only half-covering that golden torso.

Hephaestion gently pulled the fur out of Alexander’s hands and walked around behind him, pushing on his shoulder to stop him when Alexander tried to turn around. Alexander stood silent, his voice having abandoned him back by the fireplace. Hephaestion laid it across his shoulders, hands caressing the hot skin underneath as he slipped the knotted sleeves of the chiton down his arms to pool at his waist.

Finally he spoke up in a soft voice. “I’ve always like this fur. It was the first leopard I hunted.”

“I know. I helped you skin it, remember?”

“Yes, I think you were more excited for me than I was,” Alexander replied, turning around to face Hephaestion, one hand holding the fur on, the other following the curve of silk from his waist where it was tucked in up towards his shoulder. He smiled, looking up briefly from his meandering perusal of Hephaestion’s blossoming muscular form to meet those azure eyes.

This, it seems, was his undoing.

Hephaestion was looking at him with his head cocked in a certain way that he had whenever he was contemplating Alexander as if he was something to be studied.

“I could drown in your eyes, Hephaestion. I could drown and it would be the sweetest trip down to Hades a man has ever taken.”

“Do not say that, my Alexander. For what good could I ever be to you if you could not bear to look upon my face for fear of drowning?”

“Do not worry, Hephaestion,” Alexander replied as he lifted the formerly questing hand up to run his little finger along the side of his lover’s face, “I would pull you down with the weight of my heart in your hands to join me where we would be free of this realm and I could drown in your eyes all day long.”

Hephaestion leaned his face into Alexander’s hand, basking in its warmth, a smile forming on his face. “Well, when you put it that way…”

Alexander returned the smile. “May the loyal subject show his reverence for his oh-so-graceful, great and powerful sheik, now?”

A smirk crossed ‘the sheik’s’ lovely features as he answered, “He may, but only if he remembers to do it correctly, unlike the last six or seven times,” Hephaestion added with a raised eyebrow and a pointed look at Alexander, who only grinned back with feigned innocence. Hephaestion rolled his eyes at this, knowing full well the reason for this eighth attempt at getting it right. See, the secret was that getting it wrong was way more fun than getting it right ever could be.

“As it pleases you, mighty Sheik. Your wish is my command.” Alexander took a step back, his hand falling away from Hephaestion’s face, and sank to his knees. In doing so, he was presented with the most tantalizing part of Hephaestion’s already extremely tantalizing body and any thoughts of actually completing the traditional act of proskynesis went straight out the window.

Like there had ever been any hope for him in the first place. Hah.

This time was by far his worst attempt because, seriously, how could he possibly be strong enough to withstand the temptation almost poking through that very flimsy excuse for a toga? Not even Herakles would have succeeded if this had been his thirteenth labor.

So about five whole seconds passed before Alexander’s resolve gave way and instead of bending down to kiss Hephaestion’s toes as would a proper subject of the Persian court, he suddenly launched himself forward, completely knocking Hephaestion off his feet backwards onto the bed that Alexander had made sure was behind them.

Alexander wasted no time in crawling up the laughing body of the man who was his whole life, muffling the sound of it with his mouth. His fur had fallen to the ground at the outset of his leap and Hephaestion’s “toga” was now just a piece of silk rubbing coolly between their bodies. They breathed each other in until Hephaestion couldn’t help but break out in laughter again at Alexander’s infamous failures with this task.

Truly it could be said that Alexander was only ever defeated once, and that was by Hephaestion’s thighs. Hence the uncontrollable laughter.

Alexander kissed his way down Hephaestion’s sensuous neck to his collarbone where he nibbled on it until he got the moan he was waiting for.

“What’s so funny, Phai?”

“You, my dear sweet Alexander. I think you’re actually getting worse at paying your noble Sheik reverence when one usually gets better with practice.”

Alexander opened his mouth to relay the impossibility of that task with Herakles as his back-up reasoning but he got a smart slap to his clothed ass instead.

“Ow!”

“And you are realllllly lucky that there just always happens to miraculously be a bed behind me when you feel it so necessary to charge me like a wild boar at Artemis because one of these times your luck is going to run out and there will only be hard flooring beneath me and then we shall see who ends up charging who!”

By the end of Hephaestion’s comical tirade, Alexander’s schooled face had completely broken down and he was shaking from laughing so hard. It really was so incredibly easy to push Hephaestion’s buttons that Alexander had a hard time behaving himself around his Companion, especially when they were alone. This of course just incited more indignation in Hephaestion and he started wrestling with Alexander while bombarding him with another verbal assault.

“Think that’s funny, do you?” he shouted through his laughter as he pigeon-holed the younger man into a head lock.

“Why yes, I think I do!” Alexander retorted even though he was the one in the headlock. Hephaestion had always bested him in the gymnasium but Alexander was never ever going to tell him that the usual and very logical reason was that everyone fought in the nude inside the gymnasium. How did anyone ever reasonably expect Alexander to beat Hephaestion at anything when he wasn’t wearing any clothes? Seriously now. The only thing Alexander ever had going for him was the element of surprise.

“Oh, yeah? I’ll show you funny, you scoundrel!”

They wrestled around on the bed, furs slipping off in all directions, the rest of Alexander’s chiton long having come undone, finally slipped all the way off. It was like having their own private, padded gymnasium. And guess who still came out on top. Literally. They had both worked up a sweat and were panting from the exertion. Hephaestion had Alexander pinned beneath him by the legs, his hands were holding the other’s hostage above his head. Their arousals were poking each other in the stomach, almost painfully throbbing with the heat from their desire soaking the room, making the fire’s warmth cold in comparison.

“Not so funny now, is it?” Hephaestion asked, punctuating his question with a thrust of his hips, rubbing their beautiful bodies together in the most intimate of places.

Alexander groaned and his eyes nearly rolled back into his head. The friction was divine and he wanted Hephaestion to do it again so of course he had to egg him on a little more.

Scoundrel that he was.

“No, no. It’s not… it’s hilarious,” he replied with a cheeky grin, his eyes challenging Hephaestion to react. ‘That was Alexander for you,’ Hephaestion mused in his head. ‘Even in the face of utter defeat he keeps on defying his captor to punish him more. The sign of a true warrior. My warrior king.’ He would thus present a worthy foe for this great soldier.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he responded in kind with a cheeky grin of his own as he reached behind him with one hand to ghost his finger over Alexander’s entrance as he rubbed their groins together again.

This time Alexander’s eyes did roll back into his head and he stretched out with his one free hand to grab at the furs still left on the bed. A good half-minute later Alexander opened his eyes when he felt a sudden absence of heat at the entrance to his body and whimpered softly. He cleared his throat but still only croaked out, “I said, It. Was. Hilarious! And you know you love it, admit it,” he stated with utter confidence.

Hephaestion sighed as he leaned forward and captured Alexander’s hand again, this time placing their joined hands between their quickly beating hearts. He stopped a few inches from Alexander’s face, reddened from their exertions, his eyes a little wild from being so aroused.

“Alright, I admit it. I love you, my Alexander. You are everything that I care for in this world and more.”

Alexander had been straining against his “bonds” just for some added friction but stopped cold at his lover’s bold statement. They had not yet begun to express their feelings in words. The more philosophical emotions were still a bit inside uncharted territory for them. But Alexander had always known that Hephaestion was the more empathetic of the two.

Hephaestion waited patiently for those words to sink in. Truer words had never been spoken. He didn’t have to wait long. Alexander’s throat had now gone completely dry. He spoke anyway.

“I love you, I need you, Hephaestion.” He tilted his head up to close the distance between their smiling faces and kissed his beloved on the lips. Hephaestion released his hold on Alexander’s hands to run his own through those golden tresses. He also laid his body down flush on top of the prince’s from his position sitting on his thighs.

Alexander lingered on that one sweet kiss before wrapping his arms around Hephaestion’s back and squeezing tightly. He broke from the kiss to whisper in Hephaestion’s ear the truth he had known since the day they met.

“You are the first and the last…”

//End Flashback//

Hephaestion sighed as Alexander repeated the words that had been burned into his heart that night, never to be forgotten, always to be cherished as the truth no matter where Alexander’s worldly wanderings took him or who he ended up conquering, whether on the battlefield or in the bedroom.

You are the first and the last…

Alexander was still reminiscing about the fun they had in their make-believe world, oblivious to Hephaestion’s thoughts. “See, Phai, you only had to remind me six or seven times that as sheik you could make me do your bidding because I was a stubborn mule and kept forgetting that important point.”

“Liar,” Hephaestion croaked out, “you just did that so I would have to keep punishing you,” a smile on his face, “I should have come up with something that actually made you suffer.”

‘I’m suffering now, more than I can bear,’ Alexander thought to himself, but he didn’t voice his anguish. Instead, he gave his lover’s left arm a light squeeze. “Now where would the fun have been in that?” he teased back. “So once we had established and then re-established that you were the all-powerful sheik, I was but your humble, loyal subject.”

“Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it,” Hephaestion whispered. His voice was getting weaker by the minute but Alexander was too caught up in their distant happy memories to notice. “It does, my sweet Hephaestion. I would gladly serve you to the ends of the earth and beyond. You have already done so for me but I have wronged you terribly.”

Hephaestion shook his head to say he disagreed and a few curls of his hair fell into Alexander’s face. He let them fall where they may. “I know you would never address this, Hephaestion, you are too kind-hearted a soul to ever point out the flaws in one you loved so dearly, but I must do this, I must make right all the times we could have shared together in peace if I had not been bent on conquering the world.” Alexander had reached the point of epiphany. He realized now what sacrifice he had made when he chose a life modeled after Achilles and it was not the sacrifice he would have ever agreed to, had he known the truth. Not for all the gods’ wrath or all the treasure in the world.

His own body started convulsing and he could feel Hephaestion’s arms try to comfort him, a calming ‘shhh’ sound emanating from those perfect lips. Alexander started sobbing in earnest, muttering apologies. “…so sorry…you always said that Patroclus…if I hadn’t pushed on into India…I-”

“Shhh, my beloved,” Hephaestion cooed, stroking Alexander’s long blonde hair, “you have nothing to apologize for, we lived the glory of Achilles and Patroclus, we visited and sacrificed at their temple-” he paused abruptly as a coughing fit overtook him as a result of trying to speak so much out of a parched throat. Alexander could hear his lungs wheezing for much needed air and that only made him cry harder. After a few more seconds of heart-wrenching coughing, Hephaestion found his voice. Alexander managed to stop crying so that he could hear each precious word.

“…and we have loved each other faithfully our whole lives. But, I worry about you without me.”

“I am nothing without you!” Alexander’s head shot up at Hephaestion’s comment. Hephaestion brought his hand down to caress his king’s face, swollen and red from crying. “Hephaestion, please don’t leave me!”

“I won’t Alexander. I will be with you always.” He pulled slightly on the hair hanging in Alexander’s face, signaling that he wanted him to lie back down. The younger man complied, laying his head over Hephaestion’s heart but careful not to put too much pressure on the chest already in a weakened condition.

“I said I would follow you down to the House of Death and I will, Hephaestion. Wait for me there and then we will be together in the peace I should have given you in this lifetime.”

“I will,” was the whispered answer. There was such conviction in his voice as Alexander had never heard from his best friend.

“And we shall walk with Achilles and his Patroclus on Mt. Olympus for I shall ask the Oracle at Siwah to grant you divine honors. And then, my dearest Hephaestion, we shall soar with the eagles.”

“I love you so much, my Alexander…” Alexander waited for Hephaestion to continue; he had never told his beloved about his plans to get him granted divine honors but it had been on his mind much of the time ever since their near-brush with death in India. He was sure Hephaestion would be delighted with the idea. But no more remarks were forthcoming. All of a sudden Alexander became aware that he could no longer hear his love’s heartbeat, nor could he feel the rise and fall of his chest. A deafening silence invaded the room, swathing the air with a heaviness that caused the king’s own heart to seize at the realization he had been dreading all his life. It was done then. His Hephaestion had left him. All alone. A great chill ran the length of his body and he suddenly felt cold, so very cold.

He let out a great wail of pain and threw his arms around his beloved’s still body. “I love you too, Hephaestion. I will be with you soon.”

End


End file.
